


Of All The Things I've Lost, I Miss My Mind the Most

by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own



Series: Cabin Pressure One Shots [5]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Sherrinford!Martin, or Martin!Sherrinford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:04:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can look back on it now without anger, without pain. He has moved on. Immersed himself in his new life. He is a different person now, in all ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of All The Things I've Lost, I Miss My Mind the Most

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd already posted this up here. Apparently not?? 
> 
> Title is from Mark Twain

He doesn’t remember much of the events leading up to his life changing, he can’t remember much of the events that followed it either, what he can recall from them is pain, confusion, loss, and anger. Mostly he just remembers voices. Conversations. Sometimes he remembers sensations, surroundings. But not always.

* * *

_He’s dying. His blood mixing with the green of the carpet. His vision blurs. His breathing is harsh. His hands press against the wound in his side, but the blood seeps between his fingers. He’s dying._

* * *

He can look back on it now without anger, without pain. He has moved on. Immersed himself in his new life. He is a different person now, in all ways.

* * *

_“Sherrinford? Sherrinford, can you hear me? Axe, how far away is the car? We need it here now!”_

_“Marie…?” he chokes out, blood bubbling in his throat._

_“I’m here. Sherrinford. I’m here. We’re taking you home, okay? Just hold on.”_

_“Marie…”_

* * *

It was hard, back then, learning to be… a people person. Learning to keep his deductions to himself. Learning to let people tell him about themselves, instead of him telling them. Learning to accept that he would never hear his own name again. That he was someone else now. That he was someone who was completely useless at everything he tried. That in this new life, the only thing he’d ever wanted to be was a pilot, and he couldn’t fly to save his life. It was hard.

* * *

_“Sherrinford. Breathe. You need to breathe. In, out. In, out. Good. Like that.”_

_“Myc?”_

_“I’m here. I’m here.”_

_“What’s happening?”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Myc?”_

_“Just breathe. I’ll tell you later. Rest.”_

_“… Come… back…”_

* * *

He had spent a good portion of his life denying the existence of his heart. He wasn’t allowed that luxury any longer. The person he is now has a heart, he needed to learn how to use it. So he did. He spent his time in recovery, planning out a backstory with his new…  _family,_ and while they plotted, they went through exercises to teach him to  _feel,_ to care. It was hard.

* * *

_"You are going deep under cover. You will never be Sherrinford Holmes again.”_

_“What? That’s not under cover, Mycroft, that’s witness protection!”_

_“And that is what you are going into.”_

_“Why? I don’t need…”_

_“Sherrinford! Your_ partner _left you bleeding out on the floor of your hotel room. As far as he knows, you died, you are dead. He knows_ everything _about you, he knows enough about you to blackmail you into doing anything he wants.”_

_“He knows about you and Sherlock, too!”_

_“Not enough. Whatever he knows, Sherlock wouldn’t ever rise to the bait, and he would be stupid to come after me, but you were his partner. You have to disappear. He knows your weaknesses. Brother, please.”_

_“Am I?”_

_“What?”_

_“Your brother? Am I? You’re sending me away. Taking away who I am. If you are Sherrinford’s brother and I am no longer Sherrinford, are you my brother still?”_

_“Oh, Sherri, don’t pick now to become stupid. You will always be my brother…”_

* * *

He failed his pilots test six times. Each time he sabotaged his own test. Each time. It was part of his cover. He needed to be as unextraordinary as possible. No one would take the time to look at him deeper if they thought him stupid, incapable. Mycroft pulled some strings for him, secretly, of course. Within weeks of becoming a registered pilot, he was flying, as a first officer to an arsehole of a captain, but he was in the air. His new life was marching on, and he had no choice but to march along with it.

* * *

_“Caitlyn will be your connection to me.”_

_“What?”_

_“If you need me, you will speak with her.”_

_“But I thought Simon was…”_

_“Simon is your handler. He will monitor you and ensure no one and nothing blows your cover. You are not to discuss anything of your past with him. Caitlyn is your connection, your only connection.”_

_“Fine. I can’t imagine I’ll be talking to her on a regular basis!”_

_“Don’t get angry at me. I am helping you.”_

_“Have you even told Sherlock I am still alive?! Have you even told Mummy?!”_

_“They can’t know.”_

_“… Christ. I’m never, ever coming home, am I? I’m going to be dead to them, forever.”_

_“Yes. They can’t know you are alive. I’m sorry.”_

_“No, you’re not! You’re not. You never are.”_

_“Don’t be childish.”_

_“Maybe the new me is childish. I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet!”_

_“If you’re going to be like this, I’ll come back later.”_

_“Why? I thought you’d want to cast me off as fast as possible!”_

_“You’re being unreasonable.”_

_“Yeah? Well what is new?!”_

_“We will continue this later, you need to rest.”_

_“Good! Get out of my sight!”_

* * *

Caitlyn reported back to Mycroft that he was struggling financially. Aid came in the form of an old van, retrieved under the guise of inheritance from his dead father. He put it to good use and started up a moving company. Kept himself in shape. He missed it though. The excitement of his old life. Carrying boxes from one place to another, and flying a plane from one place to another just didn’t hold much excitement for him… the old him. The new him loved it, of course he did, flying was all he’d ever wanted to do.

* * *

_“Are you ready to talk about this now?”_

_“No.”_

_“Sherrinford!”_

_“My name is Martin! You should know that, you picked it!”_

_“Why must you insist on being childish?! That is Sherlock’s quality, not yours.”_

_“Is that meant to matter? It never has before. How’s his drug addiction going, by the way? I imagine he’s back on the stuff?”_

_“…”_

_“Ha, thought so. We were never meant to survive without each other, Mycroft. You know that, don’t you? You’re killing him. One day you’ll get a call from one of your people. They’ll tell you they were too late to save him, and the only person you’ll have to blame for that is yourself!”_

_“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”_

_“That’s right, run away! You always did before!”_

_“I’m… I’ve had enough of this! Goodbye, brother dear, you can discuss the rest of this with your new_ family, _Lord knows they have a task ahead of them!”_

* * *

His captain walked a thin line and he found he didn’t have the means to thwart him. Simon started getting jumpy, threatening to have Caitlyn call Mycroft. He quit. Found himself a new job. He didn’t get paid, but he was captain now. It was a step forward and a step back at the same time, he felt like he should have been torn in two, felt like maybe he already had been.

* * *

_“So this is who I am now, huh? A timid, stuttery, little fool?”_

_“Don’t be like that… Martin.”_

_“Easy for you to say, Caitlyn. You get to keep your brother! I lost both of mine.”_

_“You didn’t seem particularly upset to be losing Mycroft when you told him to get the hell out of your face and to never talk to you again.”_

_“Can we not? I haven’t had a chance to understand how Martin rages yet, I wouldn’t want to do something I’d regret… oh wait, I’ve already done that.”_

_“Martin isn’t bitter. You’re already playing him wrong.”_

_“Whatever, Caitlyn, I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”_

* * *

He has come to terms with his new life now. Over ten years of living it, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. He  _likes_ who he is now. He has  _friends,_ he has genuine friends who care about him and notice when he’s not happy, when he’s not alright. He has a  _family_ that he can laugh with and chat with about seemingly pointless things like the weather. He is  _happy._ Genuinely happy for the first time in his life, in both of his lives. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to him, then, when his old life comes back to haunt him.

They’ve just landed back in Fitton and are filling in the logs when his phone rings. He doesn’t check the caller id when he answers.

“Hello?”

“If you wish to come home. You may. Antony is dead.” The pen falls from his hands, and he launches to his feet, but before he can ask questions, the call ends. Years of starving himself just to pay rent, and working himself to the bone finally catch up with him as his breath catches in his throat and his legs buckle as he cries.

“I can go home.” He gasps between his cries as someone wraps their arms around him. “It’s over. It’s finally over. I’m free.”

When he goes home, it is only for a visit, and to sign paperwork declaring he is in fact very much alive and wanting his old name back, thank you very, very much. When he returns to Fitton, it is under the name Sherrinford Holmes, and he is richer than the Queen. He has a very nice house built for him and he moves out of his attic into it. He informs Carolyn that her Airdot will always be in the green from now on, he refuses to answer her questions on how. He regains agent status, and returns to being an assassin for his brother, his missions corresponding to wherever MJN happens to be taking him that week. And if an anonymous client sometimes sends them on cargo flights to obscure little countries, no one asks any questions, they’re paid very well not to. His life changes for the better, but in many ways it stays the same.


End file.
